


WANTED. ALIVE.

by astrangelady



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Derek, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Werewolves Are Not Known (Teen Wolf), Alternate Universe - Western, Bounty Hunter Derek Hale, Cowboy Derek Hale, Dubious Consent, F/F, F/M, Guns, Kidnapped Stiles Stilinski, M/M, Non-Con/Rape Outside of Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Omega Stiles Stilinski, Prostitute Stiles Stilinski, Rape/Non-con Elements, Slow Build, Slow Build Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Slow Burn, Work In Progress
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-21
Updated: 2020-10-05
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:13:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 6
Words: 11,337
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26018566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/astrangelady/pseuds/astrangelady
Summary: WANTED.ALIVE.STILES STILINSKI, OMEGA.$2,000 REWARD.Derek Hale had been hunting bounties for nearly a decade, and in all that time and his entire life prior to that, he had never seen a WANTED poster for an Omega. But there it was in black and white on yellowed parchment.---OR the Sterek Western AU that no one asked for
Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Comments: 60
Kudos: 283





	1. A Wanted Omega

**Author's Note:**

> This has been sitting on my computer unfinished for the past 4 years. I recently thought about it again and felt a little inspired to post it. I have some other chapters already finished and I'm hoping I'll be able to complete this before writer's block, or lack of inspiration hits.
> 
> TW DUBCON: In this chapter it is heavily implied that Stiles (and other sex workers), goes off with a customer he is not interested in having sex with.
> 
> In this universe, werewolves and the supernatural exist but are not commonly known by everyone.
> 
> ABO dynamics: in this ABO AU male omegas and female alphas are anatomically different from beta males and beta females. I can go into more detail about that if people are interested. But essentially male omegas and female alphas have a combination of male and female genitalia and physical traits.
> 
> This work currently has no beta-reader

Derek Hale had been hunting bounties for nearly a decade, and in all that time and his entire life prior to that, he had never seen a WANTED poster for an Omega. But there it was in black and white on yellowed parchment.

WANTED.

ALIVE.

STILES STILINSKI, OMEGA.

$2,000 REWARD.

There was a drawing of the young omega in question as well on the poster. He had dark hair piled atop his head and pinned up. Soft cheekbones with a scattering of moles on his face and big, dark, almond-shaped eyes. 

There were no other details on the poster, nothing about any crimes he may be guilty of or why there’s a warrant out for him.

But Derek recognizes this Omega. He ran into him when he was out in Nevada a couple of weeks ago. He had been there on business, bringing in an outlaw to the town’s sheriff to collect the bounty. It was a rather large one so Derek decided to treat himself to a couple of nights at the inn.

While he was there he had spent time at the local saloon. It was a busy place, always loud and always crowded. Derek saw the omega his first night at the saloon, talking up a male beta, using his charms and wiles to get the beta to buy more drinks at the bar and eventually a pricy evening with the omega upstairs.

The omega hadn’t made much of an impression on Derek aside from having an attractive scent and appearance. He had been curious to get a better scent on the omega, but the place was too crowded and overwhelmed by the alcohol being poured and pheromones emitting off the patrons, Derek always tried to hold his senses back in places like this, for peace of mind. It's not comfortable to constantly have one’s senses invaded by the emotional states of dozens of people at once.

The second night Derek spent at the saloon, the omega was more dolled up than he had been the previous night. There was rouge on his cheeks and black charcoal smudged around his eyes. His pale skin powdered to look even fairer and free of any blemishes. He wore a silky red corset, and ruffled petticoat and stockings, unlike the last night when his getup had simply been bloomers and a chemise. 

He was up on stage with another omega and beta girl dressed similarly, dancing behind a singing beta woman.

They briefly made eye contact, the omega smiled and Derek smiled back.

The last night Derek was in town, he spent it at the saloon again. The omega was once again there, wearing the simple getup he had on the first time Derek had seen him. Derek thought it was a bit strange that this omega and some of the others weren’t wearing lace and corsets. Every other saloon and brothel he’d been to required the girls and omegas to wear corsets and rouge when downstairs in the bar area. They only wore such casual attire like that upstairs in the bedrooms.

Derek supposed this might just be a more informal cathouse than others. Perhaps the Madam didn’t care about her workers’ appearances as long as they sold drinks and their bodies regularly. 

He’s at the bar again, nursing a glass of whiskey, no intention of getting drunk, or staying late. He’s leaving town tomorrow, heading back to California to check in on his sisters, give them the money he’s received from his bounties. Suddenly there’s a warmth pressed against his shoulder and an intoxicating scent filling his nose. He looks over and sees the omega from the past two nights. 

“You’re new in town, aren’t ya?” He asks, a slight lilt in his voice. Everything from the omega’s body language and tone suggests he’s interested and flirtatious. But Derek can smell his emotions and hear his heartbeat. His scent suggests that he’s not aroused, and his heartbeat is calm, too calm. He’s obviously just trying to do his job.

“Yea, but I think you’re gonna have better luck with that alpha over there,” Derek says nodding his head towards an alpha at the other end of the bar who smells heavily of lust and has been staring at the omega since Derek got here.

The omega smiles and suddenly his scent changes, it’s not aroused, but it’s interesting. There’s some intrigue there now.

“Hmm, but I like a challenge,” the omega says leaning against the bar. “And that man comes in here plenty and he’s had me plenty… Maybe tonight it should be your turn,” the omega says, tilting his head and elongating his pale neck. There’s a slight spike of something in his scent and a skip of his heartbeat that confuses Derek’s ears and nose though.

“I don’t think I can afford you… Stick with your regular,” Derek says, not wanting this soiled dove to miss out on his earnings for the night. He’s not interested in paying for someone’s affections. Even if they’re as pretty and handsome as this young omega.

Outwardly, the omega stays the same, looks calm and collected. But when he looks at the alpha at the end of the bar his heartbeat quickens and his scent… there’s this slight trace of fear in it that puts Derek on edge.

“But you seem so nice, I’m sure we can work something out,” He says, turning his attention back to Derek, his heart still fast and that sour scent of fear still present under his natural honey and molasses scent.

Derek glances at the alpha and then for the first time since he’s come here, opens his senses to the entire saloon. The alphas and men all smell of alcohol, arousal and aggression, the girls and the omegas, however… They all either smell disinterested with bored heartbeats, or they’re erratic and smell anxious and afraid.

It occurs to Derek for the first time that perhaps he’s not in the most respectable of saloons. The workers obviously don’t feel safe with a lot of the customers, they probably aren’t allowed to say no or turn men away.

The Madame or proprietor of this saloon must not care about their workers’ wellbeing.

Derek’s mouth thins into a firm line as he looks back at the omega beside him, who’s been staring at him unsure, waiting for some sort of response from Derek.

“How much for the night?” Derek asks, watching carefully. He can see the minute changes in the omega’s face, relief. His scent is relieved; his heartbeat slows to a much calmer rhythm. 

“Ten dollars,” The omega says, boldly reaching over and slipping Derek’s glass of whiskey out of his hand, the sloshing liquid matches his eyes. He takes a rather large sip, wincing only slightly at the burn before handing it over. It’s obviously not his first time swilling whiskey.

Ten dollars is about what he expected. He just pulled in a bounty worth $1,500, so minus the fifteen dollars he spent on his room at the inn, the five dollars for his supplies, and a couple of bucks for some drinks. He can spare ten dollars and still have enough for his sisters and their expenses. 

“My money is in my room at the inn, I’ll have to go get it,” Derek says. The omega’s smile faltered only slightly.

“Better hurry then, I’m a hot commodity,” He says, the strap of his chemise slipping off his pale shoulder. Derek slides the rest of his drink to him. 

“Finish this for me? I’ll be back soon,” Derek says, not waiting for the omega’s response, grabbing his hat off the bar and placing it on his head as he heads out.

By the time Derek had made it back to the saloon with his money, the omega was gone, nowhere to be seen. And so was the alpha he had been afraid of.

That was nearly three weeks ago. Derek hadn’t gotten a wink of sleep that night, his guilty conscience wondering and worrying about the whiskey-eyed omega. The guilt and worry stayed with him over a week until he reached his sisters’ ranch.

But after a week of rest and relaxation with his sisters and their families, Derek had forgotten the omega. Didn’t think about him at all until he was passing through Beacon Hills, a town close to his sisters’ land that had a sheriff’s station and a post for people to place WANTED posters and bounties.

It was there Derek came across the only WANTED poster for an omega he’d ever seen in his life. With a drawing of a face that looked eerily similar to the whiskey eyed frail he met over two weeks ago. Stiles Stilinski. Wanted alive.


	2. Miss Martin's Soiled Dove

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I know cat houses don’t usually keep respectable hours, but we’re closed sir, no one will be up to service or entertain you yet, ‘specially with the sun still low in the sky,” He says, paying Derek no mind as he puts up another bottle of whiskey on the shelf.
> 
> “I’m not here for pleasure. Purely business, I need to speak with Miss Martin about a bounty,” Derek says as he approaches the bar. He left his hat hanging on a hook by the door and his guns on the bench. Despite his profession and reputation, Derek thought of himself as an honorable Alpha. 
> 
> This seems to get the bartender’s attention however, finally turning to Derek with an upturned brow. “You a bounty hunter?” He asks.

Miss Martin’s Brothel was a respected institution in Beacon Hills. Customers were expected to leave their hats and guns at the door, tip the bartender, and most importantly, respect the entertainment. In fact, Lydia Martin, the Madam, had taken the effort to make and hang a sign above the door that said just that: “No Money, No Respect, No Service.” 

It was a common occurrence for Miss Martin’s hired hands to throw out a couple of scoundrels and rule-breakers every other week. Not many people of the town had respect for soiled doves but most would begrudgingly follow her rules to stay in her favor. 

In addition to the cathouse, Lydia Martin was very charitable to the people of Beacon Hills and their businesses. Most had been loaned money from Miss Martin and profited from her business. She was educated, came from a wealthy family, and her Granddaddy had been one of the town founders. 

It was not smart to cross Lydia Martin.

Derek Hale knew this to be an absolute truth when he stepped into her brothel early morning that Monday. 

It was dark inside, the only light coming in from the open door and slits in the velvet curtains over the windows. The walls were covered with posh red wallpaper Miss Martin most likely had imported from one of the larger, more bustling cities. There were dirty photographs of the entertainers hanging in false gold frames, and all the furniture was made from sturdy dark wood with a shiny finish and velvet padding and cushions.

There was a piano in the corner with a modest stage for singing and dancing, and towards the back near the bar was a set of stairs and door leading to the back and upstairs where the ‘entertainers’ slept. 

The only person in sight was a man behind the bar restocking the liquor. 

“I know cat houses don’t usually keep respectable hours, but we’re closed sir, no one will be up to service or entertain you yet, ‘specially with the sun still low in the sky,” He says, paying Derek no mind as he puts up another bottle of whiskey on the shelf.

“I’m not here for pleasure. Purely business, I need to speak with Miss Martin about a bounty,” Derek says as he approaches the bar. He left his hat hanging on a hook by the door and his guns on the bench. Despite his profession and reputation, Derek thought of himself as an honorable Alpha. 

This seems to get the bartender’s attention however, finally turning to Derek with an upturned brow. “You a bounty hunter?” He asks.

Derek nods. 

“Have Stilinski with you?”

Derek shakes his head.

“News of him?”

He nods again.

“Now if you’ll kindly get Miss Martin for me, I’d like to further discuss this with her,” Derek says, sitting himself down on a stool. The bartender seems hesitant to leave Derek here alone, but eventually, he does turn and disappear behind the door by the stairway.

Derek closes his eyes and focuses his ears to the back where the bartender has gone and hears him knocking softly at a door. He hears the soft grumblings of a woman waking up.

“This better be damn good,” He hears, followed by the pattering of bare feet and the creak of a heavy door. “What is it, Isaac?” 

“There’s a man here with news of Stiles, he won’t say nothing more to me. Only talk to you,” The bartender, Isaac, says, tone hushed and quiet, unaware Derek can hear him.

There’s a moment of silence, a skip in Miss Martin’s heartbeat before the door shuts harshly. There are hurried movements, the rustle of clothes and shoes being put on followed by the creaking door opening and two pairs of feet walking back towards the front of the brothel.

A woman emerges, one much younger than Derek had pictured appears. The way the townspeople speak of her makes her seem six feet tall and a woman wizened with age. Not this pretty young girl who appears to be no more than 30. Petite and pale, skin clear and smooth of any hardship and age. Her strawberry red hair is piled on top of her head with gold pins in curls, the remnants of last night’s rouge and powder smudged on her face still. She looked more like one of her fallen frails than she did the powerful and intimidating Madame she had the reputation of being.

“You have news of my omega?” She asks, voice sharp and in charge. Her stare cold and hard, sizing him up, the fact that he was an alpha and she was a beta meant nothing to her. Despite her petite frame draped in thin silk, she managed to be more terrifying than any outlaw Derek’s ever dealt with.

“Yes miss,” Derek says, tipping his head slightly as a sign of respect. He takes a folded up piece of yellowed paper from his pocket, unfolds it, revealing the WANTED poster for one Stiles Stilinski, and slides it over. “This is him, right?” He asks, pointing to a drawing of the omega’s sweet and soft face. She nods and looks at him expectantly. 

“I saw him a couple weeks ago at a cathouse in Elko. Didn’t know he had a bounty on him till I came through here,” Derek explains, watching Miss Martin’s face carefully, but she appears to be an expert in schooling her expression. Her scent though, unbeknownst to her, gives her away. She’s anxious and hopeful and excited. Derek must be the first person with news on her bounty. And guessing on the way she refers to this Stiles Stilinski as hers tells Derek she obviously cares about his wellbeing.

“He’s all the way in Nevada?” Isaac asks, eyebrows raised, obviously surprised to hear that.

“Yea. When I went to Sheriff Parrish about his bounty yesterday, he said to come talk to you. That your omega ain’t no outlaw, this is a personal bounty,” Derek says. Miss Martin nods but doesn’t say anything right away, gathering her thoughts it seems.

“About six months ago The Duke and his gang came through these parts,” She starts out, voice careful and measured. “Him and his lug headed alphas came in here, guns blazing with the intent to kill… He starts yammering about how he can smell the omegas in here, says if they don’t all come forward he was gonna start shooting.”

Derek feels himself tense at the mention of the Duke. His name was Deucalion. He was an outlaw no one dared to mess with, no matter how high the bounties got. And they were high. 

Deucalion and his gang were all werewolves, however, this fact was not known with most people. The majority of humans lived their lives ignorant of all things supernatural; giving some people liked Deucalion and Derek unfair advantages.

Derek used his supernatural abilities as a way to bring outlaws to justice. Deucalion and his gang did just the opposite.

“Well, Stiles and the five other omegas I have working for me all came forward, despite me telling them to stay hidden… Deucalion looks at them all for barely five seconds before declaring that Stiles ‘smells right’ to him. Then everything after that happened fast… Deucalion threw Stiles over his shoulders, his gang all holding us at gunpoint and leaves with him. I sent my men after them, Parrish and his deputies went after ‘em too, but they weren’t fast enough… No one’s heard from or seen Stiles since,” Miss Martin says, and when Derek looks closely he can see tears prickling at the corners of eyes.

“That omega is very dear to me, not only my employee but my friend and family, ya hear? You’re Derek Hale, right? You’re supposed to be the best, so I want you to bring him back home safe… And if you kill that bastard Deucalion on the way, consider that a bonus,” She says crossing her arms and standing tall. Derek stands from the stool and nods. 

“I’ll do what I can, Miss Martin,” Derek says, folding the WANTED poster back up. “You don’t have a photograph of him, do you? I almost didn’t recognize this drawing of him,” He says sliding it into his back pocket.

“I have plenty of photographs, just nothing appropriate for polite society,” Miss Martin says. “Hence the drawing.”

“Right, well I suppose this’ll do, he’ll hopefully still be at that brothel,” Derek says and then holds his hand out to Miss Martin. She places her smaller and softer hand in his and they give each other a firm shake. 

“I gotta stock up on some rations, let my horse rest for a bit. But I’ll be leaving this evening for Elko. Deucalion and his gang have been quiet recently, so no one’s heard of their whereabouts lately. I’ll try and send a telegraph when I get your omega.”

And without another word, Derek leaves; Miss Martin and Isaac’s looks and scents of approval are all he needs now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for the kudos and comments from the first chapter. I'm so excited to keep working on this AU. Next chapter is going to be all about Stiles.
> 
> I'm hoping to update once to twice a week.
> 
> NOTE: This work currently has no beta-reader


	3. From House to Home to Cathouse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everything was fine. He wasn’t happy, but he was managing, surviving without his parents.
> 
> But then his first heat hit when he was fifteen. Most omegas had their first heats by the age of thirteen, Stiles was a late bloomer though.
> 
> For the third time in his short life, Stiles’ world changed drastically. 
> 
> Suddenly his caretaker became his suitor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Check for spoilers/TW at end notes.
> 
> Here's some insight of how much I've overthought ABO dynamics lol(for real, I put way too much thought into this). You don't need to have read this to understand this chapter or the rest of the story.
> 
> When humans were first evolving, there was a higher biological need to reproduce, it was imperative to the survival of very early groups of people, just as civilizations were beginning to form. groups that were majority male or majority female would have smaller numbers and be weaker and unable to carry own without offspring. To account for this, some women and men started developing secondary sex characteristics, and their sexual drive and instinct to mate rose drastically. Humans would eventually be categorized as Alpha, Beta, or Omega. 
> 
> Male and female alphas are on average, taller, more muscular, and more virile than male betas. Female alphas still have breasts, but they are much smaller than the average female beta/omega, and they no longer have mammary glands to breastfeed. They also lack a womb. They have internal testicles and a penis that comes out when erect. Female alphas in the old west typically keep their hair short, above the shoulder or shorter, and wear what male Alpha would wear.
> 
> Male and female omegas are highly fertile, more so than female betas. A male omega, like a female alpha, will have breasts, but they are also small, like a-cups, and sometimes appear flat. They do have mammary glands to breast-feed. Male omegas have no testicles, but they do have a small penis and they urinate through that. It cannot become erect but can become firm when stimulated, it's essentially an external clit. Male omegas also have a uterus and womb, they also have a vaginal opening for sex and birth. Male omega's do not get pregnant through anal sex. Male omegas, however, also have narrower hips, like a male beta, because of this, male omegas have a higher post-partum mortality rate. In the time this story takes place, it's in fashion for male omegas to wear their hair long and dress like female omegas and betas.
> 
> As societies became more stable and populations are able to steadily grow without the threat of decline, male omega and female alpha birthrates have slowly started to decline. They're not rare, but no longer as common as they once were and will continue declining.

Six months ago

Working at a brothel hadn’t been part of Stiles’ plan when growing up. Hadn’t been part of his mother’s or father’s plans either. He was going to work hard on his studies, take over as the schoolteacher for Beacon Hills when Miss Alvers got married. Eventually, get married himself to a respectable alpha and start a family of his own.

Then Stiles’ mother died when he was nine, and after witnessing the grief his father went through from losing his wife, his best friend, Stiles decided getting married wasn’t for him. He’d be a spinster schoolteacher. Live with his father and take care of him. 

And then Stiles turned thirteen and his father was shot dead by a bank robber.

He was too young to inherit his father’s land or their house. Too young to be on his own. Omegas needed to be taken care of after all. 

One of his father’s deputies, Harris, took him in, made sure Stiles was taken care of, had food and clothes and shelter. Stiles found a way to cope with his grief by focusing on his studies. He could still be a schoolteacher. 

Everything was fine. He wasn’t happy, but he was managing, surviving without his parents.

But then his first heat hit when he was fifteen. Most omegas had their first heats by the age of thirteen, Stiles was a late bloomer though.

For the third time in his short life, Stiles’ world changed drastically. 

Suddenly his caretaker became his suitor.

“You’re at a ripe age, Stiles, there are other ways you need to be taken care of now,” Deputy Harris said to Stiles the morning after his first heat hit him. 

Stiles was lying in bed, drenched in sweat, wearing only his nightgown, panting and moaning softly. He had never felt this way before, he’d heard other omegas his age describe what heats are like, but actually having one…

It’s a whole other thing, entirely.

His skin felt like it was burning, pins and needles pricked and poked his flesh from the inside, like they had been trying to burst out of his body. His chest was tender, nipples hard and chaffed, and his…. God, it had throbbed with this want to be filled that Stiles couldn’t even fully comprehend it.

Stiles had never felt so vulnerable and exposed as he did at that moment when his guardian leered at him in the doorway. He may have been naïve then, but Stiles knew exactly what Deputy Harris had meant when he said ‘there are other ways you need to be taken care of now.’

Stiles spent the rest of his first heat with his door locked. 

After that, Stiles would always feel Harris’ eyes on him when they were around the house. He wouldn’t even try to hide the lust he felt for Stiles.

“You know I’m a dependable, respectable man, Stiles. I’ve supported you since your daddy died, made sure you’re taken care of. I’m a provider, and I could take care of you the way an alpha is supposed to care for an omega.”

“I don’t love you,” Stiles had said.

He had not expected Harris to burst out laughing.

“Love? You think this is about love?” Harris asked between his cackling. Stiles shrunk into himself, feeling embarrassed and angry.

“You’re lucky you have me, little filly,” He said, a slight sneer on his face. Stiles grimaced. “Ain’t no one talking ‘bout love, this is about practicality. An omega looking like you can’t go through life unmarried, not unless you want to be thought of as a strumpet.”

“I still don’t wanna marry you, Harris. I want nothin’ to do with you or any alpha,” Stiles said boldly, hands balled up into fists and pressed against his hips. 

“You sure do have a big mouth on you, Stiles. Suitors won’t like that,” Harris said, and then he left, off to the Sheriff's stations to report to duty.

That night, when it was dark and Stiles was trying to sleep, the deputy drunkenly stumbled into his room, shutting the door behind him. Stiles could smell the heavy and nauseating scent of vomit and cheap liquor from his bed.

He was completely still, not sure what was happening until he heard the sound of a belt being undone and incoherent, drunken slurs.

Before he could think to move, to get up and run for the door, Harris’ heavy weight was suddenly on top of him; rough hands grabbed at him and pushed his nightgown up.

“No! Stop!” Stiles yelled, he tried to shove his guardian off of him. Instead, he heard a grotesque laugh from the man and a warm, clammy hand smacked his mouth, and Harris’ dirty fingers forced their way in, pressing down Stiles’ tongue, making him feel as if he were choking.

Stiles screamed around the fingers, balled his hands into fists and slammed them against Harris’ back. All he got in response is more of that same laughter, it made him shudder, his eyes went wet with tears. He dared to look down and between their two bodies, he saw Harris stroking his limp cock, trying to get it hard so he could violate Stiles.

He brought his knee up and slammed it as hard as he could into Harris’ side, heard the man groan in pain in response. Stiles bit down on his fingers and raised his leg higher so he could give a harsh hit with the heel of his foot into Harris’ back. 

“You fucking bitch,” Harris grits out as he slams his hand down on Stiles’ chest, knocking the wind out of him. 

As the omega gasps for air, while simultaneously trying to push Harris off him, Harris has torn off his undergarments and ripped the front of his nightgown open, exposing Stiles’ petite breasts to the cool night air.

“I’ll teach you not to fight back,” Harris barks out, his spit landing on Stiles’ face and the putrid scent of his liquored breath attacking Stiles’ nostrils.

“Don’t you touch me!!” Stiles chokes out, trying to push away the harsh hands groping his breasts. As he struggles beneath Harris, Stiles manages to worm one of his legs between them and knees Harris’ crotch as hard as he can, making the man let out a pained cry, rolling over onto his side, hands cradling his limp, throbbing dick. 

“You fucking cunt! I’ll kill you,” He cries out. But Stiles is already off the bed and running out of his room. He grabs his boots and coat and makes a break to their little stable where Harris’ horse is, doesn’t even take the time to saddle her up, just hoists himself on and goes. He’s not sure where he’ll go; he just knows he has to leave.

He spent exactly three days living in an abandoned barn on the outskirts of town before Sheriff Parrish found him.

“Please don’t make me go back to him,” Stiles pleaded, huddled in the corner of the rundown structure, coat wrapped tightly around his weak frame. He hadn’t eaten in over three days. After he had found the barn, Stiles let Harris’ horse run off since he had no means to tend to it.

“Deputy Harris? Did he hurt you, Stiles?” The young sheriff had asked. Stiles bit his chapped lip until it split and bled. He jerked his head in a nod and wrapped his arms tighter around himself; a small choked sob escaped him.

“He… attacked… hurt me in ways I can’t speak of,” Stiles whispered weakly.

Parrish slowly approached the vulnerable and scared omega. It wasn’t much of a leap to come to the conclusion that Harris made some sort of sexual attack on young Stiles. He crouched down to the omega’s level and placed a firm and warm hand on Stiles’ thin shoulder. “You’re safe now. I won’t let him near you, Stiles,” Parrish said, there was much regret in his voice when he spoke.

“I made a promise to myself to keep you safe when your daddy died,” He said softly. “I promise you I won’t let anything like this happen again.”

Parrish then gathered Stiles in his arms and brought him back to the town. Harris was fired immediately and thrown out of town.

The only matter left was what to do with the young omega with no guardians or spouse to care for him. Parrish had Stiles stay with him on a spare cot for a week or so, but the Sheriff’s home was small and cramped. And after word got out of what Harris had tried to do to his omega charge, many people in the town thought it inappropriate for Stiles to live with a man, an alpha male no less, he wasn’t married too. 

That’s when Lydia Martin stepped in.

The Martin family had a large house that the young woman had recently become the head of, due to her father dying and having no uncles or brothers to take over. Her mother and sisters knew nothing of money or business, so the responsibility went to twenty-two-year-old Lydia who had recently returned from studying abroad with a college degree in business and finances.

“The omega can stay with me. My home has more than enough room to take on another resident and there are no men or alphas aside from a handyman. Stiles will be safe with me and my family,” The young woman said to Parrish at the Sheriff’s station, after having heard rumors around town about the uncertain fate of young Stiles Stilinski.

Stiles was once again uprooted. His few belongings packed off and sent to the Martin’s.

Stiles had the privilege of living without the pressure of alpha callers. Mrs. Martin would send any alpha that came around asking to see Stiles and Lydia made it clear that Stiles should feel no pressure to marry.

The two of them grew close, became fast friends, Lydia becoming a sort of mentor for Stiles. 

“What do you want, Stiles?” Lydia asked him one day, the two of them sitting on the Martin House porch, enjoying fresh lemonade and a cool breeze.. He was seventeen now, had been living with the Martins for nearly three years now. He’d be eighteen soon.

“I have a best friend, a warm bed, what more could I want?” Stiles asked, shrugging, not fully comprehending her question. Lydia merely rolled her eyes, knocking Stiles playfully with her shoulder.

“Don’t be a coot, Stiles, you know what I mean. You’ll be eighteen in a few months, full-grown, an adult in the eyes of the law. You’ll have the deed to your family’s land finally. It’s not much, but… You need to start thinking about the future,” Lydia said.

“I don’t want to go back there… It’s too sad, wouldn’t be the same without my folks. And I don’t want to marry… I don’t know if I even want to stay here,” Stiles confessed. It was the first time he had ever mentioned leaving Beacon Hills.

“Where would you go?” 

“I’ve always wanted to see the ocean… I figure I could sell my family’s land and… move somewhere by the sea. We’re already in California… wouldn’t be that far. You could visit me.”

“That’s a nice thought… I’d miss you dearly if you went away. But if it’ll make you happy, we can make it work,” Lydia assured. Stiles could tell she was sad to hear he wanted to leave. It made him sad as well. When he realized he couldn’t bear to live in his childhood home alone just a few weeks ago, he cried for hours in his room.

“I’ll have to sell the house and land… It won’t be much though. And the land hasn’t been kept up…” He sighed, his fingers wiped away at the condensation on his glass. He’d never thought of money before. Stiles had always been told he’d be taken care of. When he was younger he had just accepted it. But after so many life-changing hardships, Stiles felt it might be better to truly be on his own.

Lydia noticed her young charge’s expression and knew he was deep in thought. Worried. “Don’t you worry about money, Stiles. You’re an honorary Martin, you’ll always be-”

“Taken care of?” Stiles interrupted, his tone low and sullen. Lydia looked at him surprised and Stiles offered a sad smile. “I’m sorry… I know you mean well… But I don’t want to be taken care of anymore. I want my own life. And the only way I can have that as a single omega is to have my own money.”

“Your own money? There’s not a lot of work around here for an omega. And I don’t think Miss Alvers plans on getting married anytime soon, so there won’t be a need for a new schoolmarm,” Lydia was serious when she told him this. Stiles knew she wasn’t trying to dismiss his ambition or discourage him, but he can’t help but frown at the grim reality of his situation.

“I know… which is why I’ve been thinking. I’m 18 soon. Old enough to decide for myself that I want to work at the brothel,” Stiles wanted to avoid Lydia’s eyes, he’d been afraid of her judgment. She’s been his closest friend, mentor, and caretaker the past three years and he couldn’t stand the idea that she’d think less of him at this suggestion. Thankfully all he saw on her face was surprise.

“You know I think the work my entertainers do at the saloon is honest work, Stiles. I don’t judge you for considering it. But you know I’m always going to take care of you, right? It’s not work you have to do if it’s just money you’re worried about,” Lydia’s voice was soft and even. There was no hurt or judgment in her tone and Stiles could take comfort in that. He reached across the small table and took her hand.

“I do know. And I love you for it. But I think it’s time I start my own life. I was always told I’d grow up to marry an alpha and be provided for and that would be it for me. And I just accepted it. But you’ve taught me I can do things my own way. And this is how I want to do it,” Stiles gave her hand a squeeze. It would be hard leaving the Martin house for a cathouse, but Lydia’s saloon was one of the most respected joints in Beacon Hills and all the towns surrounding it. Lydia treated her workers well and Stiles trusted her to do the same for him.

Lydia laughed and wiped a stray tear from her eye. “If that wasn’t one hell of a speech, I don’t know what is,” Stiles laughed back and sheepishly looked away.

“Well… if this is what you want, you can start work after you’re 18… and you can quit and move back here at any time,” Lydia was stern when she added that last part. Stiles couldn’t help but smile.

“I know. And thank you. For everything.”

Stiles moved into the cathouse a month after he turned 18. The women and omegas that worked there all welcomed him, showed him the ropes, taught him how to deal with the more difficult customers and what to do if he needed someone thrown out.

He started out waiting tables, learning to flirt with the patrons, slowly worked his way onto the stage to dance, and eventually started bringing men and alphas upstairs.

Stiles didn’t love it. But he liked it. And he was content knowing he was saving for his future.

Lydia was always nearby, the other workers were his friends and family, and even the patrons weren’t that bad. Stiles even looked forward to some of his regulars coming in.

It wasn’t the life his parents wanted for him, or what he imagined himself doing when he was a young boy, but he was happy and finally felt ready to take on whatever the world threw at him.

He survived losing his mother at nine. He survived his father being killed at thirteen. He even survived his would-be rapist at fifteen.

But Stiles never thought he’d have to survive real honest to God monsters at twenty-one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Stiles is underage when his guardian, Adrian Harris, attempts to rape him. No penetration happens, but Harris puts his fingers in Stiles' mouth, exposes himself to him, and non-consensually touches him. Harri also uses sexual language towards Stiles while he is underage.
> 
> NOTE: This work currently has no beta reader.
> 
> Thank you everyone who's been reading, leaving comments and kudos. It warms my heart so much to know there are people out there who are enjoying this story. In the notes above is a detailed explanation for the ABO dynamics of this universe. If you skipped it but are curious, check it out! I probably overthought and overcomplicated it, but it makes sense for me.


	4. Leaving Hale Ranch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He became a lone wolf. A literal lone wolf. All he had was his horse, Orsino, as company and whatever outlaw he chased down that week. Derek got used to being on his own and eventually, it felt normal, and being around regular people felt odd.
> 
> But going on a rescue mission for a lost omega, that felt different.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No warnings for this chapter

It was always hard leaving the Hale ranch, Laura and Cora always pester him to stay longer, their children beg him to stay, or ask to go with him. Ever since he was seventeen, the longest Derek’s stayed at the ranch was three weeks, and that was only because he had needed more time to heal after an awful run-in with Deucalion’s gang. He had been lucky to make it back alive. 

Derek always misses his family when he’s off on his own. He misses his sisters, regrets that he isn’t there to witness so many moments his nieces and nephews growing up. 

But it’s hard being home, seeing the burial plots of their lost family members, and being crushed with grief. It had been horrific losing their alpha and the majority of their pack so young. Derek was fifteen, Laura had only just turned 18 and young Cora was still a child, barely twelve years old. 

It was a rough transition, but they scratched and fought their way through it. But rebuilding the house and maintaining the ranch put quite a big dent in their family fortune. They were near bankrupt and in desperate need of some money to get through the next few months without taking out a loan from the bank. That’s when Derek caught his first bounty.

It hadn’t been on purpose exactly. Derek had been in town and just happened to see a WANTED poster for some drunkard thief, his bounty at $200. But Derek recognized the man, knew his scent. He had been an old drinking buddy of his uncle.

Before he knew it, Derek was using his nose to track down the wanted man’s scent, and found him within two hours, passed out in a barn. With his supernatural strength, it made carrying the drunkard back to the Sheriff’s station too easy, and suddenly Derek was $200 richer.

“You can’t just go off and hunt down bounties. It’s not safe. And what if you expose yourself?”

That’s what Laura had said when Derek brought her the money. At first she was ecstatic, that money would solve a lot of their troubles for the next month or so. Longer if they were smart about it. But once she learned how Derek got it she was livid.

“We need the money, the ranch isn’t profitable right now, not without workers. The three of us can’t keep doing it all ourselves.”

They argued about it for hours. Cora even chimed in a few times, sometimes in favor of Derek, other times on Laura’s side.

Eventually, it was decided that Derek could go out after more bounties. But never ones over $500 or outside of California, for fear that it’d be too dangerous. 

Derek followed these rules for the first three years of his bounty hunting career. But then Laura got married and mated to another wolf and made him part of the Hale pack. And with her husband came two betas. And suddenly Derek was part of a pack that felt like strangers to him.

So he went further out, started looking for higher bounties, people more difficult to find than drunks and petty thieves. Laura wasn’t happy, but she had new betas, a husband, and her first child on the way to worry about.

So Derek was left to his own devices. He’d be gone weeks, sometimes even months at a time, and never stayed home long. 

He became a lone wolf. A literal lone wolf. All he had was his horse, Orsino, as company and whatever outlaw he chased down that week. Derek got used to being on his own and eventually, it felt normal, and being around regular people felt odd.

But going on a rescue mission for a lost omega, that felt different.

Derek’s never really saved anyone. He’s stopped outlaws he goes after from hurting people, and he intervenes if he happens to be around someone trying to cause harm. But Derek has never actively sought out a damsel or person in need to save.

Stiles Stilinski will be the first. 

It was a curious situation. Miss Martin told him Stiles was taken by Deucalion and his gang six months ago. But Derek hadn’t caught a whiff of any of them in Elko or around the brothel. 

Deucalion said Stiles “smelled right” to him. Which made sense to Derek. certain people had scents that were particularly attractive to certain wolves. Someone who smelled good to one wolf might smell completely normal to another. 

Derek remembers being intrigued by Stiles’ scent, but it was so muted by the alcohol and everyone else in the saloon. But it’s safe to assume Stiles’ scent is alluring to werewolves. It’s not often a single scent will stand out in a crowded room like Stiles’.

Yet that’s what has Derek stuck. A werewolf coming across someone with a scent like that would want to keep that person close, possibly court and mate that person. Not abandon them in a whorehouse. 

He wondered why this young omega stayed there instead of trying to get back to Beacon Hills. There had to be something keeping him there. Derek had a suspicion this wouldn’t be so cut and dry as his usual bounties. There had to be some sort of correlation to Deucalion going quiet, and the omega he kidnapped and left in Elko.

Derek loads up all the supplies he’ll need on Orsino. He says one last goodbye to his sisters, the pack, and all the kids, and he doesn’t tell them about the omega. He doesn’t know how this’ll work out and he doesn’t want anyone to worry that he could be dealing with Deucalion again.

The last time ended awful. Derek was twenty-two. He had just cashed in a $1000 bounty. It was the largest one he had ever pulled and he was riding high, feeling cocky. That’s when he saw the bounty for The Duke and his gang. The Alphas. 

No one could catch them, no one dared to. But most people didn’t know that they weren’t just a band of alphas. They were alpha werewolves.

If anyone had a chance, Derek thought it would’ve been him. He was an alpha male, a beta wolf from the Hale pack. They had a certain reputation among werewolves.

He had found out they were in Sacramento. It wasn’t too far from where he was in Redding. So he saddled up and rode there.

It hadn’t ended well. At first, Deucalion tried to coerce Derek to join the Alphas, to overpower Laura, and take out his pack. Derek played along and tried to attack when he thought Deucalion’s guard was down.

Turns out Deucalion’s guard was never down.

He and the rest of the Alpha’s attacked, Derek barely made it out. He’s honestly still surprised today that he’s alive.

Derek couldn’t let that happen again. Laura would never forgive him if he survived. And if he died… Derek didn’t want to think about it. 

Instead, he focused on getting back to Elko, Nevada. It would take over a week to get back there. He’d have to stay in some towns along the way. He could probably get some smaller bounties in on the way, in case he’d need the extra money to get Stiles out of that cathouse. And he could ask around about the Duke and his gang. They never stayed quiet for too long so there would have to be something.

The journey to Elko felt longer than it actually was. Orsino was fast as always. The drunks and thieves were still easy to track and turn in. 

But Derek felt different the closer he got to Elko. Something wasn’t right. In every town he stopped, no one had any news of Deucalion. Nothing in three months. It made no sense. The most he got was someone telling him about a bank that got hit up by the alpha twins, Ethan and Aiden last month in Pomona. 

Something really wasn’t right. Something ominous was afoot and Derek didn’t like it. Not one bit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This work currently has no beta-reader
> 
> Things are going to get exciting soon. I can't wait to share the next couple of chapters.


	5. Searching in the Heat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There’s something intoxicating in the air, something that wasn’t there before. Or at least something he hadn’t remembered feeling. It makes his hackles raise, the hair on his neck sticking up. It made his head hazy and lustful. 
> 
> Derek attempts to shake himself out of it and instead focuses on finding Stiles. The omega’s not on stage, not at the bar or at any of the tables. Maybe Stiles is upstairs and he’ll have to wait. Or barge in and cause a scene.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW/Spoilers at the end notes

It’s hot in Elko. Miserably hot. Derek ties Orsino up near the river just outside the town. There’s an abandoned structure nearby. It’s pretty old and beat up, someone probably meant to make it into a barn or house, some kind of shelter, and abandoned it. Or maybe it’s been stripped for parts. The breeze is cool coming off the water and Orsino seems happy to drink up. Derek follows his stead’s lead and splashes the water on his face, trying to clean up a little and look more presentable and trustworthy when he goes around town to ask about Stiles. 

He’s hoping getting Stiles out will be simple, but Derek’s not too optimistic. He remembers the sour scent of fear coming off Stiles and the other workers. It's doubtful many of those girls and omegas are there by choice, which is very unusual for a brothel.

There’s no mirror he can check, and the reflection from the rippling water isn’t great, but Derek can tell he at least got the dust and sweat off his face. 

People treat you better when you’re clean and seem respectable. Derek’s learned this from experience. 

He lets Orsino some more, Derek needs him to be ready in case they’re chased after when he gets the omega. He takes out the folded up WANTED poster of Stiles. The omega truly was beautiful. Derek understands the appeal, even without the captivating scent, Stiles was eye-catching.  
Derek would have assumed an omega with looks like Stiles would be married. The pretty young spouse to an important and wealthy alpha. Yet he had been working in a brothel long before Deucalion entered his life. It was strange, that Derek was sure of. 

He strategically folds the paper, folding around the drawing of Stiles so all the info of his bounty was hidden and places it in his pocket. There wouldn’t be any WANTED posters for Stiles in Elko, so it’s likely no one in town has a clue there’s an omega with a bounty on his head working at the local saloon. Stiles himself probably doesn’t know about Miss Martin placing a bounty on him.

Derek settles against the abandoned structure, watches Orsino, and tunes his ears into the sound of the babbling river. His eyelids are heavy. Derek really hightailed it to get to Elko. Never stopping for long. The exhaustion was beginning to catch up to him. Getting some shuteye shouldn’t hurt. It was hardly midday. The brothel in question probably isn’t servicing many patrons yet. Derek will need it to be crowded. It’ll be easier to smuggle Stiles out unnoticed in a crowd. 

Derek isn’t asleep long. It’s rare he has a deep, restful sleep anyway. Not since the fire. He looks up, squinting his eyes at the sun. It’s still high in the sky and beating down hard. Derek will have plenty of time to investigate a bit, sniff around. 

It’s quick to get Orsino ready and it’s a quick ride as well to get to the heart of the town. Hardly twenty minutes and that was without a gallop. He goes back to the inn he had stayed at only a month prior. It was right across from the saloon. The couple who ran it were kind and Derek thinks it’ll be a safe place to leave Orsino.

Elko’s a modest town, but it seems like most of the folks here are just passing through. Cities, towns, homesteads, all of them have their own unique scent, just like a person. People who are settled in one place have an overlay of that place they call home. His sisters and the new Hale pack have it. Derek used to have it too, but when you spend most of your time traveling from place to place, that overlaying scent becomes muddled.

None of these travelers recognize Stiles, but that doesn’t mean the omega isn’t still here. Derek can pick up trace scents of other werewolves. Meaning the Alpha pack is most likely nearby. There’s no local pack in Elko that he knows of so it has to be them.

When he stops by the sheriff’s department, that’s where Derek finally gets some answers. The human alpha from that night at the brothel, the one Stiles seemed to fear, was the sheriff. Derek disclosed to the deputy working the front, an alpha woman, that he has a bounty hunter and she allowed him to go back to speak with the sheriff. The man doesn’t recognize Derek at all, but why would he? He was more preoccupied with the omega Derek was talking too.

“That little filly? He’s a new favorite at Blake’s Brothel,” The man says, a salacious grin on his face that Derek wants to smack off. The lustful scent coming off him was strong too, overwhelmingly so.

“A new favorite? So how long has he been there?” Derek asks. Miss Martin said Stiles wasn’t taken six months ago. And Derek saw him last month. 

“A bit over two months now, I reckon.”

“How’d he end up here? A little odd for a young omega like him to pop up out of nowhere,” Derek looks at him closely, listens to his heart, trying to find any sign of deception or suspicion. But the man just shrugs his shoulders, that disgusting, perverted grin still on his face. 

“Hell if I know. As long as his leg are open and cunt is tight, I don’t care where he came from,” His voice is crass and blunt. A crudeness in his eyes that Derek immediately dislikes. He’d like to punch him, but he’s not worth the effort. If Derek does his job right, Stiles won’t have to deal with this vagrant pervert ever again. With a sheriff like this, it makes Elko the perfect spot for Deucalion to hideout.

“Right,” Derek says, clearing his throat, putting the drawing of Stiles away so the man can stop leering. “Ever see anyone from the Alpha gang lurking around?”

The man looks puzzled a moment, his heart beats a little faster. “No, never heard of ‘em,” He says confidently, but Derek knows its absolute horseshit. A sheriff who hasn’t heard of the most wanted gang in the west? But he doesn’t call him on it, the lie is all the confirmation Derek needs to know the Duke is still involved in this. Blake’s Brothel must somehow be connected to the Alphas. Maybe they run it or have money invested. It would explain why they left Stiles there. Maybe they thought he’d be worth more to them selling his body.

Derek doesn’t thank the man for talking to him. Just tips his hat to the deputy and heads out. 

The sun has set now, the streets are quieter. Derek can hear the brothel, it’s busy and bustling like he expected it too. He checks on Orsino at the inn. The innkeeper’s husband gave him some feed and Orsino seems happy about that. Good. He’s glad Orsino’s been taken care of. Derek always feels guilty when he has to leave his horse alone for extended durations of time.

Finally, Derek returns to Blake’s Brothel. It feels different stepping into the establishment this time than it did a month ago. A month ago he was ignorant, willfully ignoring the mistreatment of the workers and the stench of their fear. Now Derek felt like he was stepping onto a battlefield. But instead of gunshots and screaming, there was a clanging piano, shouting and laughter and surprised and fake squeals.

There’s something intoxicating in the air, something that wasn’t there before. Or at least something he hadn’t remembered feeling. It makes his hackles raise, the hair on his neck sticking up. It made his head hazy and lustful. 

Derek attempts to shake himself out of it and instead focuses on finding Stiles. The omega’s not on stage, not at the bar or at any of the tables. Maybe Stiles is upstairs and he’ll have to wait. Or barge in and cause a scene.

He approaches the bar, there’s an older woman behind it, a female omega. She’s in a fancy getup, her dark hair curled and pinned expertly, her silk dress was the nicest one in here by far and her body was decorated in glittering baubles and jewels. Her pale skin was expertly painted to highlight all her beautiful features. And she smelled like she’s been around werewolves. She smells like she’s mated to one.

“Howdy there, handsome. What can I do for you?” She asks when Derek catches her attention. Her eyes and voice are sultry as she looks Derek up and down. She didn’t seem fearful and her smile wasn’t forced. Derek thinks she might be the madam of this place.

“I’m actually hoping to get a night with a particular omega,” Derek says, giving her a friendly smile. It’ll be best if she thinks he’s just another patron. If she’s connected to the Alpha pack like he thinks she is, it’ll only bring him trouble to reveal his true intentions. “I had a night with him the last time I was in town and I couldn’t get him out of my mind. Dark hair, fair skin, eyes like whiskey,” Derek describes. The woman smirks.

“Ah, you mean Stiles. He’s quite in demand. Unfortunately, he’s out of commission tonight. But I’m sure I can find another one of my doves to satisfy you,” She says leaning across the bar towards him. So she is the madam here.

“That’s a shame, he had the prettiest face,” Derek says and he doesn’t like talking like this. His mother raised him to respect omegas and women. It feels wrong.

“Oh, he’s real pretty. But not as pretty as me… You can call me Jennifer if you’d like. Everyone 'round here calls me Madam Blake. But I like you,” Jennifer says, giving Derek a wink.

“Well, that’s mighty kind of you, Jennifer. I’ll settle for a drink for now. I’m sorry that omega isn’t feeling well,” Derek says, prodding for more information. She said Stiles wasn’t available tonight, not that he was gone, so that meant Stiles was somewhere nearby. At least he hoped. 

“Aw honey, don’t you worry. Stiles is just fine, just coming off his heat. Can’t have one of my best attractions knocked up now, can I?” She says with a sardonic chuckle, pouring Derek a glass of top-shelf whiskey and sliding it over to him. “This one’s on the house. Hope it makes up for losing out on a night with my prized omega.”

Derek takes the drink and sips it, hiding his distress. Stiles was in heat. Fuck, this is not good. That’s gotta be what’s in the air tonight too. Stiles is locked away somewhere inside this saloon, all his heat pheromones leaking into the bar area, creating an even bigger feeding frenzy among the patrons. Before Derek can say anything, his whole body gets tense.

Another werewolf is in here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW/Spoilers: there is a conversation between Derek and a man who has had non-consensual sex with Stiles on multiple occasions and is vulgar when he tells Derek about Stiles.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	6. In the Belly of the Beast

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> But then Kali cracks a smile and Ennis barks out a bawdy laugh.
> 
> “Seems like we didn’t beat all the bite out of him,” Ennis jokes, slapping his hand on the bar. Kali shakes her head and releases her hold on Jennifer.
> 
> “It’s too bad you declined Duke’s offer all those years ago. It’s never too late join,” Kali says. “Aren’t you tired of beta blue eyes? Why not try out alpha red? It’d look good on ya,”

How had he not sensed them coming? The pheromones in here were messing with his head. He looks behind and there they are. Kali and Ennis. Deucalions’ most trusted goons. 

“Look what we have here, Kal. The little pup who tried to take us out,” Ennis taunts, sidling up next to Derek while Kali goes behind the bar to wrap her arms around Jennifer.

“Not so little anymore, Ennis. He’s a real wolf now. I hope he’s learned his lesson not to mess with the big dogs,” Kali sneers gleefully at him, kissing her mates cheek and nuzzling her neck. 

“This handsome lug is a Hale? I should’ve known. He has his mother’s eyes,” Jennifer says, her tone suddenly cruel rather than sultry. Derek holds back the low growl trying to escape his throat at the mention of his mother.

“What are you doing here, Hale? Better not be up to any trouble,” Kali asks, her voice low and firm. Ennis walks closer to Derek, looming over him.

“I’m in town for a bounty. Not any of you. I learned the hard way to leave y’all alone,” Derek says evenly, taking another sip of his whiskey. He has to be careful about what he tells them. They’ll be able to hear any lie or deception if it’s too obvious. He just needs to tell them enough of the truth to get away from them.

“Really? What’s the story with this one, huh?” Ennis asks. Derek side-eyes him and then looks back at Kali and Jennifer.

“Not much to tell. A bit of a mystery. I’ve been asking around all day, couldn’t find a single thing. Went to the sheriff’s station even. But it seems like I wasted my time coming out here. So now I just want a stiff drink and a pretty omega,” Derek says callously. Nothing about what he said was a straight-up lie. He knows his heartbeat stayed even. Ennis relaxes some against the bar, but Kali is still looking at him closely.

“What a shame. What’s the name of this guy you’re looking for?” Kali asks, not even hiding her suspicion. Derek smirks at her.

“Why? You want in on my payday? Fat chance,” Derek says and then downs the rest of the whiskey. There’s a tense silence between the four of them. Derek’s worried they're contemplating just shooting him right here.

But then Kali cracks a smile and Ennis barks out a bawdy laugh.

“Seems like we didn’t beat all the bite out of him,” Ennis jokes, slapping his hand on the bar. Kali shakes her head and releases her hold on Jennifer.

“It’s too bad you declined Duke’s offer all those years ago. It’s never too late join,” Kali says. “Aren’t you tired of beta blue eyes? Why not try out alpha red? It’d look good on ya,” Kali flashes her red eyes at Derek, his blue ones flashing back in response. He tenses up and shakes his head.

“Nah. I’ve grown accustomed to being a lone wolf. No reason to stop now,” Derek says, still outwardly tense. He wants to curse at Kali for even suggesting killing Laura and the Hale pack, but he doesn’t want to cause a scene. “Not like you need me anyway. Y’all have been pretty quiet recently. There’s been no news of Deucalion and you two for months. The most I’ve heard is the twins hitting up a bank. Retiring from your life of crime to run a brothel?” Derek asks, turning the tables on them. He’s hoping to get some kind of telling reaction from them by bringing up Deucalion.

But Kali and Ennis just shrug him off nonchalantly, but Jennifer, she bites her lip, her heartbeat speeding up just enough for Derek to notice. Interesting. “Duke’s laying low, that’s all. But don’t you worry, nothing’s gonna keep us from maintaining our reputation, Hale.” There’s no lie to Kali’s words. But Derek still doesn’t trust her. He’s sure Kali and Ennis and professional liars. They know how to lie to another wolf.

“Well now. You didn’t come here to chat us up. You said you wanted an omega for the night,” Jennifer says, finally speaking up again. All three wolves’ eyes are on her. “See that curly-haired blond? That’s Erica. She’s a spitfire. If you liked Stiles, you’ll like her too,” Jennifer directs their attention to a gussied up blond omega across the room. But Kali’s more focused on Derek.

“You requested Stiles?” She asks suspicion back in her voice.

“Yeah. I was here a month ago and took a liking to him, but Madam Blake said he’s… indisposed,” Derek says, choosing his words carefully again. Kali nods but doesn’t say anything so Derek continues. “Thank you for the drink. I think I will check out that omega. She’s mighty pretty, smells like sugar,” Derek tips his hat and leaves a bill on the bar even though Jennifer had said it’d be on the house. Ennis and Kali don’t make him stay so he goes over to the blond omega, Erica.

Immediately she locks eyes with Derek and a flirty smile forms on her painted lips. “Howdy. Looking for some fun, stranger?” She asks and Derek nods, ignoring the feeling of Ennis and Kali staring at him. Erica offers her hand to Derek. “Why don’t you come upstairs with me then,” She says. Derek slips his hand in hers and allows her to lead him away to a flight of stairs in the back.

He looks over his shoulder at the bar, Kali and Ennis aren’t looking at him anymore. It seems they’ve lost interest in him now that he’s being ”occupied” by a pretty frail. Derek looks back ahead and follows the omega woman leading him up and into a small bedroom. He can hear the grunting and moaning more clearly up here. The sound of skin slapping against skin and squeaky bed frames barraging his ears. He takes a deep whiff, to see if he can catch that cloying heat scent that was so dominant downstairs. But it’s fainter up here. So that means Stiles isn’t up here.

“So, what are you looking for?” Erica asks, going to lounge on the bed, her legs splaying open, inviting Derek to settle between them. Derek stays by the door though. He takes a moment to listen downstairs. Trying to focus in on Kali and Ennis. They’re both drinking now, laughing, and singing along to the song the performers are singing. Ennis suggests they play poker. Good. They won't be listening to Derek up here.

“I’m not sure,” He says. He pulls the drawing of Stiles out of his pocket and shows it to Erica. “But I’m hoping you can help me with something,” Derek steps closer so she can get a better look. Her brow furrows as she looks at the parchment.

“You’re looking for Stiles?” Erica asks, her voice quiet. Derek nods. She closes her legs and stands up, looking Derek up and down suspiciously. “What makes you think I’ll help you?” She questions, her tone switching from flirting to accusatory. Derek can smell her though. He knows she’s anxious and worried, feeling protective over Stiles. He unfolds the paper, revealing all the information on Stiles’ bounty, and holds his hands up placatingly.

“I’m not here to hurt him. I just want to help him get home. His friends in Beacon Hills miss him. His old madam, Lydia Martin set a bounty hoping someone would bring him home,” Derek explains, talking as low as possible. He’s hoping Stiles might have shared details about his past with this Erica girl and by sharing what he knows, she’ll trust him.

Erica’s lips purse, she’s thinking. Considering. After a tense pause, she huffs out a breath and grabs the paper for a closer look. “You can’t be worse than the assholes here I suppose…” Erica mutters. With a sigh, she sits back down on the bed and hands Derek back the poster. “You better be telling the truth.”

“I am. I’m a bounty hunter, not an outlaw. I only want to help,” Derek says, lowering his hands.

“Well if it’ll get Stiles out of this hellhole, then I’ll tell you what I can,” Erica says.

“I’m guessing you’re not here of your own volition then,” Derek says solemnly, sitting down at the other end of the bed. Erica scoffs.

“No. Most of us aren’t. I’m here trying to pay off my family’s debt to the Alpha gang. That’s the case with most of the workers here.”

“And the others?” 

“Brought here by force. Like Stiles. Two months ago Ennis brought him here, kicking and screaming. We all thought Ennis would just kill him for putting up such a fight. But then he whispered something in Stiles’ ear and Stiles just stopped fighting. Started working. Won’t tell anyone what he owes to the Alphas,” Erica explains, her voice somber. 

Derek’s not surprised at Erica’s confession. It only confirmed everything he suspected. Something had to be done about this, but with a sheriff that clearly turned a blind eye to what happened here so he could get off. But right now, that was above his pay grade. Deucalion and the alphas would definitely kill him this time around. 

Erica looks him squarely in the eyes, a tired and irritated expression on her face. “Don’t look like that. You’re not the first fool to think himself some kind of hero and try to save us poor damsels from that gang. Trust me, it never ends well. Just get Stiles back to his home. If at least one of us can get out, that’s victory enough,” She gets up from the bed then and over to the corner of the room, crouching down to the floor. Derek stares at her silently, wondering what on earth she was doing. Her hands were feeling around the floorboards, digging into the cracks and grooves of the wood. Then she’s pulling a piece of the floor out, setting the plank aside, and pulls out a key.

“You’re going to need this. Madam Blake keeps us in the cellar when we’re in heat,” Her voice is grave and sullen as she hands Derek the small brass key. It’s safe for Derek to assume that what he’s going to find won’t be a pretty sight. 

“Wait 'til just before dawn, everyone should be asleep and Kali and Ennis will be gone, they never sleep here. You can reach the cellar from behind the bar,” She’s deadly quiet and stern as she explains all this to Derek. He can hear the quick, steady patter of her heart. Her sugary scent becoming acidic from anxiety and worry.

Derek can’t help but look away from Erica’s tense gaze. Her words chilled him. 

“I’ll come back when I get him home,” Derek says. Erica immediately scoffs, shaking her head.

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep. You think you’re the first good man to come ‘round here, see the state of things and try to do something about it? There are demons here even bounty hunters can’t stop.”

They don’t talk after that. They sit quietly. Erica pulls out a cross-stitch and offers Derek some water. But he stays still, listening to the raucous noise of the bar slowly die down, and squeaky beds and moans turn into snores and sleep talk. 

True to Erica’s words, Ennis and Kali both leave, taking Madam Blake with them. 

Not much is said between Derek and Erica as he leaves. But she grabs his hand tightly and wishes him luck.

It’s quiet in the narrow hallway. Every step Derek takes creaks and echoes in his ears. He knows the humans sleeping can’t hear, and the ones partaking in the illicit activities of the brothel are too distracted to care about a creaky floorboard in the hall.

The bar is dark and empty. It’s a complete mess. Chairs overturned by rowdy customers, spilled beer, and whiskey on the floor and tables. Derek’s nose wrinkles at it. Madam Blake and the alphas clearly don’t have much care or respect for this place. Not like Miss Martin’s or any other cathouse Derek has been to.

Behind the bar, there’s a trapdoor. The omega pheromones that had been permeating around the bar were most concentrated here. This must be the way down. Derek takes a moment to listen in to his surroundings, make sure he truly is alone. He doesn’t want to run into someone of the Alpha pack skulking around.

But there weren’t any wolves nearby. None that he could sense in any case. So Derek takes the chance to open the trapdoor. The hinge is rusted and makes a terrible sound as he opens it. The smell of damp, musty dirt, and the honey scent of Stiles’ heat assaults Derek’s senses. He can feel his eyes flash, the bright blue giving some illumination to the dark cellar as he climbs down.

It’s cramped and dark, hardly any space to walk. There’s not much down here aside from some shelves stocked with more liquor and a door with a padlock. He can hear the faint sound of breathing, of a resting heartbeat. Stiles.

He steels himself, taking the key Erica gave him and unlocks the door, pushing it open to reveal a tiny room with nothing but a threadbare mattress on the floor. 

And there was Stiles, laying there in his own sweat and slick, his hair in a tangled braid, the only thing covering his body a flimsy and thin chemise. He looks sickly and weak. Derek can’t believe someone would allow an omega to live like this during their heat. No contact or food or water. It was despicable, 

The shock of seeing Stiles like this is enough to keep Derek from getting lost of the sweet scent of Stiles’ heat. He slips off his duster and crouches down to wrap Stiles’ body in it. He tries to be careful as he lifts the omega up, not wanting Stiles to stir and cause a commotion.

But Stiles does stir, a quiet, disgruntled groan escaping his pink lips, causing Derek to still. Slowly, Derek watches as Stiles’ eyes dazedly open. Those amber, whiskey eyes Derek remembered so well are suddenly looking up at him, and in response, Derek’s eyes glow their beta blue. 

“Are… you an… angel…?” 

Stiles’ voice is weak and raspy, Derek almost can’t make out the words, but he does. Of all the things Derek thought Stiles would say, asking if Derek was an angel wasn’t one of them.

Before Derek can even reply, those whiskey eyes close again, and Stiles is once again unconscious.

Now all Derek had to do was get Stiles the hell out of here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took a bit longer than I expected, but I'm excited to keep this story going! Finally, Stiles and Derek are together. Thank you all for reading and all the kind comments. It means so much!


End file.
